NSFW: Barely Coping

November 14, 2017November 14, 2017

Saw this on Twitter today:

Not sure about ya’ll but for me depression sucks. It sucks more than a black hole and those guys don’t let light escape their expansive maws. I was diagnosed with PTSD and Major Depression Disorder a few years ago but haven’t gotten the appropriate treatment to “fix” or “cure” my issues. To be honest, I doubt there is a cure for something like this. No matter how many blog sites I take advice from, no matter how many coping skills the counselors teach me, no matter the mix of medication I swallow every morning to “NOT FEEL!”, the Depression lingers.

Winston Churchill described his depression as a Big Black Dog. I found this rather interesting since 1) I had no clue Churchill was depressed and named it 2) he named it the same damn thing I did before I was even a twinkle in my Father’s eye. My own depression is titled The Big Black Dog and in my mind’s eye, I see it as a rotting mass of flesh that drags and oozes behind me as I journey through my life. If it had a head, it would be the cracked skull of a dog with a single ear holding on by the smallest pieces of blackened flesh. It nips my ankles if I slow down or try to take a break. It knows that if I stop, I shall succumb as easily as a quail chick in a deep waterer. It speaks evil things and loves to lie to me. Depression makes me super paranoid and I hardly believe some of the words that come from people’s mouths. That damn dog likes to screech and howl over good advice.

Did you know I’m a published poet? Hahahaha!

I honestly didn’t know how I wanted to approach this topic, but @freshcutky, just another person on the internet, said it for me. It’s a thing. I’ve got it. I’m barely coping. Yes, I eat. Yes, I sleep enough. No, I am not going to counseling or receiving more medication. Why? Because I’m poor. I am churning through program after assistance program trying to find something to help alleviate the chewing at my ankles and the screaming in my head. There are people like us that are really, really trying and well, Life’s reaction is:

I believe Patton Oswalt’s late wife said it best: It’s chaos. Be kind. So, at least, continue to be kind and tender to one another.